


The Death of Resurgence

by hayabusa1138



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 02:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4545897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayabusa1138/pseuds/hayabusa1138
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A normal day for a mechanic on an Alderaanian resistance-staffed frigate quickly turns hectic as the Empire rears its ugly head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Death of Resurgence

"There, that should do it!" Anya Reiher stood up from her prone position on the durasteel floor and pounded the console with her fist. The sound reverberated throughout the mostly empty room.

"Are you sure?" Alexis Sajem said. The fair-skinned woman extended a hand towards Anya. "Ever since this thing took a blaster shot when we were taking this place, it's been acting up."

Anya wiped the sweat from her tawny hands upon her uniform before accepting her friend's offer to help her up. "Well, I think I actually managed to fix it."

"That's what you said last time..."

Anya frowned and shook her head, mumbling joking phrases in a stage whisper as she put her tools away. "I won't be back to fix it again, that's for sure. If it does mess up again, I'll get my boss to spring for a brand new one. I think we've spent enough credits trying to fix this damn thing to replace it."

Alexis' blue eyes rolled. "Lieutenant Sorrels? You'd have better luck getting Emperor Palpatine to step down..."

"We're working on that one, too." The two laughed at her joke. In the two years that Palpatine had ruled his new Galactic Empire, this small rebel cell had been steadily gathering forces and striking wherever they could. Anya's mirth faded for a second at that thought. Her boyfriend Galen was out there at that moment, fighting with the small strike team that he had been assigned to. He wouldn't tell her what world that he was being sent to, but the look in his eyes when they parted told her that he was frightened of it.

The unhappy thought was forcefully pushed out of her mind. Worrying about it wouldn't change anything and she'd deal with whatever happened when it did. What did need to be worried about was the next piece of broken machinery upon the Resurgence that desperately needed repair. The Nebulon B frigate had been captured just months after Palpatine's Declaration of a New Order by several Alderaanian security officers. In the following couple of years, the ship had spent the majority of its time in deep space, far from any civilized systems save for the times that they needed to refuel and restock. This left many of the ship's internal systems, some that had been damaged in the firefight that took the ship from Imperial hands, vastly needing replacing.

The credits, despite how deep their benefactor Bail Organa's pockets were, were simply not there. What credits that he could manage to sneak into their coffers were relegated to fuel, tibanna gas and food for the crew. Anya's stomach growled after that thought and she checked the chronometer on her wrist. "Lunch time. You coming along?"

Alexis shook her head. "No, my commander's gone and changed my hours again. I don't get my lunch shift for another hour. See you tonight for chow, though. I think Shanna's going to be there, too."

"All three of us roommates together in the same room when it isn't the night cycle?" Anya said. "Don't tell the captain, he might change it again!"

Outside of the encryption room Anya saw crew members huddled around communications equipment, each one of them waiting in boredom as they waited for some message to come through. Their small fleet of the Nebulon B command ship and several Corellian-made corvettes and gunships generally kept to themselves save for daily status reports.

The floor shook violently as Anya neared the turbolift, throwing her off of her feet. She landed hard on the durasteel floor, a wave of pain running from her elbow as the joint impacted. The silence that had been the normality in the communications room was replaced with cries of surprise and pain.

"Freedom's Lance to Resurgence," a stoic voice said. "We're under attack by an Imperial Star Destroyer." Other voices raised their call to the flagship, each of them repeating the same information with varying degrees of panic in their voices. The voices called out again, relaying tactical information as Anya struggled to reclaim her footing. A loud crash reverberated through the room as another shockwave tossed the crew around again. Anya crawled on her hands and knees towards the turbolift, a mixture of duty and fear compelling her to claw her way towards the ship's machine shop if she had to.

"By the Force, Resurgence, we've got another one!" The voice of the captain of the Freedom's Lance cried out in surprise before being silenced forever in a burst of static. Finding her footing upon the metal ground, Anya stood up and raced into the turbolift.

"Lt. Reiher to Lt. Sorrells, you have anything for me yet?" The turbolift shuddered slightly as what had to have been a mild shot impacted upon the frigate's shields.

"I'm not getting any damage reports yet," her commanding officer said. "Report here, we're bound to get some." She mentally prepared her route. The machine shop was over 200 meters away and two decks down, across from the long spar that separated the main sections of the ship from the engines.

The turbolift door opened over the hangar bay, a large grated metal walkway hanging over the large pit. Below her the ship's fighter squadron scrambled into their fighters, a motley mixture of V-19s, Cloakshape fighters and Headhunters. The multitude of engines on the fighter squadron roared to life as they lifted off of the cramped floor and headed out into the maelstrom.

Through the large blue magnetic field she was finally able to see everything that had been described to the Resurgence in the communications room. To port were two Imperial Star Destroyers, large wedge-shaped craft that were nearly five times larger than the frigate she was on. Their guns focused on the other ships in the makeshift rebel fleet, green lances of destructive energy screaming through the void and into the smaller ships.

Her boots clanged on the grate as she turned her head away from the battle and headed towards the door that led to the spar. Gripping the railing that had been placed on the converted TIE fighter racks for balance, she fell to a single knee as another turbolaser blast rocked the ship.

"Reiher, this is Sorrels, where are you?" Her COs voice was hoarse as it came through the intercom.

"I'm on my way. I'm in the hangar bay right now." She steadied herself onto the rail and continued moving towards her station.

"Belay that last order, lieutenant. That last shot blew a power regulator in Secondary Engineering. They have a replacement there, but no one that can install it."

"On my way." She turned around and headed back towards the bow of the ship. Secondary Engineering, where a majority of the ship's power systems were, was in the long superstructure that hung down from the keel, decks down from the communications room where she had been just moments before.

As the turbolift took her down to the 26th deck, she could feel the frigate's engines subtly moving the craft forward. Her heart lodged itself into her throat. The inertial compensators for the ship were dialed almost to the maximum, rendering almost all shifts in momentum unnoticeable to its crew. Either they had dialed it back just slightly to get a feel for the craft during combat or... The next thought brought more energy to her legs as she readied herself to run as soon as the turbolift door opened. It had either been dialed back or power was beginning to fail.

Secondary Engineering was in chaos when she arrived. Acrid smoke from the ruined part filled the air and assaulted her nose as she asked a bewildered looking crew member to grab her a spare tool kit from their stocks. The work was easy enough despite the hits that the ship took from the attacking destroyers.

The entire ship seemed to nearly buckle as another heavy blast of turbolaser fire slammed into it. Alarms screamed and red lights blared as the spare power regulator shifted out of its housing and rolled against the wall. Anya cursed and tried to stand as the intercom hummed into life.

"This is Captain Verana to all crew: our shields are down and we are being boarded. Report to your assigned escape pods and abandon ship. Repeat: all personnel are to abandon ship. May the Force be with us all." A squelch ended the captain's final orders to his crew. The staff inside of the section began their mad dash to the turbolift, Anya racing right behind them. Her mind worked quickly as she remembered drills and instructions last given nearly half a year previously. Her primary escape pod was on the other side of the ship in the main engineering section. The secondary still wasn't that close: near the spar on this section of the ship.

She was alone in the turbolift as the doors hissed open to her deck, the rest of the crew in the secondary engineering section having reached their escape pods far quicker than she. Already the open hallway had an air of lifelessness to it. Lights flickered intermittently and wires ripped exposed by the enemy fire sent white-hot sparks down before they burned before touching the durasteel floor.

A corner turned towards the starboard side of the ship, the sound of blaster fire echoing down the hallway. Anya pressed herself close against the bulkhead and slowly peered down it. Five meters ahead of her the passage ended abruptly in the middle of another hall, red and green light accompanying the loud blaster fire reflecting off of the surface. A rebel soldier lay dead on the floor, a blaster burn still smoking off of his dark vest.

Her eyes caught the glint of black metal next to his body and recognized it as a blaster rifle. She licked her stress-dried lips and slowly walked towards the blaster on the ground. Each step that she took towards her fallen comrade felt as if she were walking through the mud flats that she used to play in as a child. A single step there felt as if it took all of her energy just to lift her bare feet off of the ground.

A red blaster shot impacting into the wall ahead sent her mind screaming back into the present. Her hand quickly went to her mouth to stifle a startled gasp as her nerves sent her stumbling back a step. Silence followed the shot and she quickly went into action, body scrambling to reach the blaster rifle.

She held the Blastech-crafted carbine in her hands as she slowly stepped backwards from the other hallway. She held it in her hands, now what could she do with it? The frightened voice inside of her was so very quick to remind her that she hadn't fired a blaster since she underwent basic training in the Alderaanian Defense Force years ago. What use would she be against well-trained and better equipped professional soldiers?

Her hands found the safety of the blaster and ensured that it was off, followed by a quick check at the energy cell's charge level. Full. She may not have fired a shot in years, but at least a fighting chance against the Imperial troops was better than no chance at all. Anya held the blaster at hip level, pointing down the hallway as she stepped backwards and on to her original destination.

A figure stepped out into her view, clad in the full white plasteel uniform of the clone troopers. It was different somehow: the breastplate's crease was higher up on the soldier's waist and a knee pad was gone from his right leg. The helmet was different, less sleek with a larger respirator. "Found another one!" he cried out as Anya fired. Her blaster shot went wide and hit the bulkhead behind the trooper. He raised his own blaster rifle and she bolted.

The stormtrooper's blaster fired pierced where she had been just a few seconds before as she made her way down the hallway. The quick pounding of her pursuer's boots echoed behind her, each thud against the floor seemingly twice as fast as her own. She saw the access hatch a second before she dived into it and scrambled on her elbows and knees down the cramped passageway. She'd lose him in the maintenance passageways and then make her way back to her escape pod.

A gauntleted hand as firm as alusteel gripped at her ankle and tugged violently. Anya screamed in pain and surprise as she was dragged back towards the opening of the hatch and her rifle stayed motionless ahead where she had lost her grip on it. She fought against the hand on her leg and stretched as far as she could to reach it the fallen blaster. The rough hempen fabric of the strap tantalized the sensitive skin on her fingertips before another potent pull dragged her away.

Ignoring the pain of the action, she twisted around on her back and looked down towards her attacker. The stormtrooper was leaning halfway into the passageway, white helmet reflecting the red light inside. She raised her free foot as much as she could in the constricted area and brought it down as hard as she could onto that helmet. Her foe uttered a surprised cry but his hold upon her did not relinquish. She kicked again, connecting solidly for the second time and his grip loosened. He cursed at her and pulled again. A third and final kick connected firmly where the soldier's nose would be, his grip loosening completely as he screamed in pain. She scrambled back onto her stomach and lunged for her blaster rifle. The cool metal was a welcome relief to her palms as she turned around once again.

The stormtrooper grasped at her foot again and regained his purchase. This time she was prepared for it. The blaster shot echoed loudly in the enclosed area and assaulted her eardrums in concert with the acrid scent of burnt ozone filling her nostrils. The stormtrooper ceased his movements and lay still. Anya turned around and began crawling through the tunnels once again.

A force ripped its way onto her ankles once again and pulled harder than even the first stormtrooper was capable of. She screamed in fear and surprise as she was ripped out of the passage, the blaster rifle again falling out of her grasp. She dangled in thin air above the hallway, twisting and turning as much as she could to escape the grasp of whatever it was that had her.

"Now, now, your struggling is quite useless," a cultured voice with a Coruscanti accent said. She searched for the source of the voice and saw a depleted squad of stormtroopers standing in the hallway, led by a man in a deep blue robe trimmed with green. A metal cylinder hanged from a belt. "As you may see, you're quite our prisoner." His cold, steel-like eyes motioned upwards as she was raised in the air to meet them. She followed those eyes down her body and blinked in astonishment as her feet were held by what seemed to be nothing at all.

She swung her fists towards the robed man and shook her body in a futile attempt to loosen whatever grip he had on her. Her ears pounded and dark spots appeared in front of her vision as the blood rushed down to her head. "Stop struggling or I will make you stop." Her next lunge was answered with a simple flick of his hand. The pressure against her ankles was replaced as a gust of power hurled her back first into the bulkhead. The air in her lungs was slammed out of her as she crumpled down to the floor, landing on her stomach. She gasped on the ground before strong arms jerked her off of the floor and back onto her feet.

"I trust that there'll be no more acting out?" His smiled caused her stomach to turn. The robed figure's comlink chimed.

"Draco to all inquisitors and stormtroopers: I've gotten what I came for. Time to leave this ship before Varth destroys it." Varth. The name sank her heart even more. Admiral Varth had been an Imperial officer that had seemingly defected to their rebel cell. And now his perfidy had been revealed to be nothing more than a ruse.

"It seems that our time aboard has come to an end," the inquisitor said. He pulled the comlink from his belt and answered back. "Inquisitor Draco, this is Inquisitor Sirran, we have one rebel prisoner." His comlink picked up two more inquisitors reporting in to their commander, each one reporting that they had prisoners as well.

She was led through the hallways of the ship, hands on top of her head. Any movement of them downward, the stormtrooper behind her warned, would result in a blaster bolt in her back. In a long hallway, her captors were joined by other stormtroopers and two more of the robed inquisitors that seemed to be leading the attack. Nine other prisoners were led with their hands on top of their heads, each of their uniforms and faces stained with smoke and grease. Anya scanned their faces, hoping to find some familiar face amongst them but recognized none of them. Her heart dropped and she wondered if that was a good or bad sign. No Alexis and no Shanna. That meant that they had managed to get to their escape pods and got out, right?

"Where's Cresh Squad?" the robed figure that had captured her said.

"They were ordered to take Captain Verana alive on the bridge," a black-uniformed officer spoke. He was young and looked almost fresh out of the academy. "There were sounds of a fierce firefight over their comlinks and they haven't reported back in yet. They're dead, Lord Sirran."

A quiet fury played itself onto the Inquisitor's face before the flames died just as quickly as they had appeared. "It doesn't matter," he said. "We've gathered enough prisoners to get what information we need." His robe swirled as he quickly turned around and walked down the hallways.

"Let's go," a stormtrooper behind Anya said. She felt the rough impact of a blaster rifle against her back as he pushed her to move forward. They were led down darkened hallways that had been so full of life just hours before, passing the bodies of fallen rebels and Imperials. "Eyes forward," the stormtrooper warned as she glanced down at the dead to see if any of her friends were among them.

They marched down the hallway again, the lead inquisitor pushing another prisoner in front of him. She was in the middle of the group, surrounded by fellow crewmembers that she couldn't recognize. The stormtrooper in front of her held up a fist, calling the troops behind him to a halt. "You hear that?"

Sirran pulled a blaster pistol out from his belt and opened fire at the prisoner in front of him, dropping the man instantly. "Find them," he said.

The stormtrooper that raised the alarm said a word to comply before a red blaster bolt from the side pierced his skull. The stormtrooper behind her uttered a curse and then pushed her roughly down to the ground, onto the corpse of his ally. The armor was cold and unmoving as she landed on it, the plasteel breastplate rigid against her ribs. She lay still but not before risking a glance towards the side where the blaster shot had come from.

A shadowy figure moved out from behind another corner and was replaced by a bulkier figure. The red emergency lighting in the corridor reflected off of shiny metal armor and a large blaster rifle. A burst of fire poured towards the group and she listened in a grim satisfaction as Sirran cried out a short yelp of pain before crashing to the ground.

The stormtroopers and surviving inquisitors shoved their prisoners to ground and returned fire, but the bulky attacker had already retreated back behind the corner. The young officer yelled out to the darkness and the rebels within. "Come out or we'll kill the rest of them!" She pressed herself as close to the ground as she could. A burst of rifle fire erupted near her, the searing heat of the bolt hitting the dead stormtrooper in front of her.

Blaster fire from both sides answered. She remained on the floor, as motionless as she could stand to be as the firefight raged on. Cries of pain and the thud of bodies as they fell to the ground surrounded her. Stormtrooper armor clanked against the metal floor and the odd sounding mixture of snapping and hissing came to life followed by an electric hum. More blaster shots and death cries followed before being replaced by silence.

"Got them," a mechanically filtered voice said from down the hall. "Check the prisoners."

"If you're not hurt, you can stand up," a very familiar voice said. "We're here to get you out of here."

Anya raised her head up and slowly got to her feet. A figure in red-trimmed Mandalorian armor stood in the back, flanked by a female Bith carrying a blaster rifle in her delicate fingers. Standing in front of the group was a man carrying a stormtrooper's blaster rifle and wearing a smoke and oil-stained jumpsuit with blast padding attached to the chest. His short hair was black, the result of a metabolic dye that she had helped him to apply, a few weeks worth of beard growth on his cheeks. "Galen."

"Anya?" His tired voice was filled with relief and a smile tugged at his lips. Two steps each from both of them brought them to each other and they held each other as tight as they could. His uniform smelled of smoke and sweat and she knew that after all that she had been through in the last twenty minutes must have left her with the same odor. Neither of them seemed to care at the moment.

"Hate to break this up," the rebel in the Mandalorian armor said, "but we still have a mission to do."

Galen ended their embrace. "Are you all right?" he whispered to her. She nodded. "Every one who's willing and able to fight," he called out. "The inquisitor that led this attack has captured Jedi Master Denia. We have to stop them from leaving this ship. There's plenty of blaster rifles around here, so pick one up and follow us. If you don't want to fight, my companion's ship is docked at Ring Aura. We have a couple of our people guarding it and they'll be looking for you."

Anya grabbed the fallen blaster rifle from the dead stormtrooper in front of her. Beyond the body were four prisoners and their escorts, their forms frozen on the deck in the position that they fell. The blaster fire as the stormtrooper raked the prisoners had ended just short of where she had been, centimeters away from ending her life. "Ready," she said.

The other four surviving prisoners followed their rescuers as they made their way across the spar towards the secondary hangar of the frigate. Anya watched as each of them flanked the others and held their blasters with differing degrees of competency. She knew that most of them, like herself, hadn't picked up a blaster since basic training and that some of them hadn't even fired one in their entire lives. She clutched her blaster in her hands. She may not have the military training of the Mandalorian or Galen, but she had already killed one stormtrooper that day and there may be many more that would have to die before they were able to leave. It wasn't something that she looked forward to, but it was something that had to be done.

The walk to the second hangar of the frigate was uneventful save for the occasional shake up as another Imperial volley struck the ship. The attacks against the Resurgence were infrequent and likely limited to surgical strikes to keep the ship from escaping while the Imperial boarding party was still on board. The rebels huddled next to large doors leading into the docking bay, being instructed by the more experienced soldiers.

"You're going to take cover and take whatever shots you can at any Imperial stormtrooper out in the open," the Mandalorian said. "Leave the soldiers next to any prisoners to us. We don't want to risk hitting them."

"Don't stay out in the open for too long," Galen said. "You're out there for more than a few seconds and then they can aim at you and then you're dead."

Anya closed her eyes and took several deep breathes to calm herself. The blaster rifle held gently against her palm. A reassuring hand rested on her shoulder. "If you don't want to do this, you don't have to," Galen said. His voice was a whisper, barely audible over the others receiving brief instructions on how to check the charge in their weapons.

"I want to," she said.

"Just be careful." His face was filled with concern. "Do what I told all the others and you should be fine.."

"I will."

The Mandalorian finished his own instructions and stood by the door, flanked by the female Bith. Galen stood close to her and the other rescued prisoners. "Now!" Before the single syllable had escaped his lips, the Mandalorian had opened the two doors and fired the first two shots of the skirmish.

Anya leaned out from her hiding spot and surveyed the situation as best she could. Inside of the hangar was an Imperial shuttle, the white-hulled craft's two wings folded up to touch the dorsal wing and was beginning to lift off. A blonde-haired Imperial officer stood in front of her troops, barking orders. She fired a random shot before ducking back behind her cover. The sound of blaster fire slamming into the opposite wall filled the room with its cacophonic symphony.

"Split up by doors," the Bith ordered. Her melodic voice clashed with the harsh orders that she gave. Anya was the first to move, shifting around to the next door. "Cover us!" The three more experienced rebels rushed out of the room, blasters firing. Anya popped out of her own cover and took aim at a stormtrooper kneeling next to one of his wounded comrades. Her blaster shot took him in the thigh, far too low for where she had been aiming but still managing to take him out of the fight.

The firefight was quick and ended just moments later as the final stormtrooper fell to the ground. She looked around at the rebels, looking for anyone with any wounds. The Mandalorian let out a curse in his native tongue and threw his helmet to the ground. "That kriffing dar'jetii dikut got away!"

The ship rocked once again as another battery of turbolaser shots impacted the ship. "I think it's time to get out of here..." Galen said.

Fire rocked through the frigate as the Empire finished its assault upon the vessel, the durasteel hull of the ship creaking under the strain. Distant explosions rumbled through the entire length of the vessel. "Be careful," a light-haired aristocrat said to the fleeing rebels as they descended the docking ring's ladder into the Baudo-class yacht below. Another violent lurch threw the remaining rebels on the deck of the ship. "Go as fast as you can, but take it easy."

The ship rocked again. "No more 'be careful,' just hurry," the Mandalorian said.

Anya slid down the ladder into the ship and moved aside as the rest of the group made their way inside. The ship had been created as a pleasure yacht once, but all the finery had been stripped way and replaced with instruments of warfare. The large common room was gone, replaced with a row of seats circling an active tactical holoprojector.

She took a seat and secured herself into her crash webbing. The yacht detached from the frigate with a slight hiss and a brief lurch of acceleration. As Galen and the other members of the strike team rushed into the cockpit of the vessel, she watched the battle unfold in the projector. The smaller corvettes and gunships raced through the space between the dying frigate and the two star destroyers, picking up escape pods and ejected pilots. Were Alexis and Shanna on one of those escape pods? Belok and Galen's other bunkmate? Their other friends? The hopeful thought pushed aside the fear.

Anya heard Galen's loud exhalation of breath as the blue facsimile of their shared home separated into two pieces as the connection between the engine and command sections was severed by the withering fire from the Imperial warships. Fire blossomed out of the seven engines before engulfing the entire section and expanding to include the rest of the ship. The scene's chaos faded as the debris from the Resurgence floated through the ether of space.

"It's gone..." Galen stood where he was, hand on top of her seat. His mouth hung open and he blinked his eyes rapidly as if to wake up from some horrible dream. The Mandalorian's voice called to him from the cockpit of the converted yacht.

She watched as one of the corvettes leaped into hyperspace followed by another. The remains of the Resurgence too small to even register anymore. It had been a home away from her home on Alderaan for two years and had been where she met many friends and had met Galen. He was still alive but the fate of her friends was still unknown to her. She paryed a silent prayer to all of the deities that she had heard of for them to be off of the ship and all right. One by one the smaller corvettes and transports blinked out of existence on the screen as they jumped into hyperspace. They had to have been on one of those other ships, her mind raced to relieve her worry. She rested her head in her hands and felt the slight lurch as the ship she was in joined the others as they headed into hyperspace.


End file.
